


Captive Prince Drabbles

by Just_Another_Day



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Check Notes For Details and Warnings for Each Part, Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-01-11 23:49:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 5,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18434660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Another_Day/pseuds/Just_Another_Day
Summary: Assorted drabbles and ficlets based on ideas that will probably never be made into full fics.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The 'chapters' posted here will be drabbles or ficlets that will be mostly unconnected to each other, though I'll specify in the notes when they _are_ related either to each other or to my existing works. Any pairings or warnings will be included in the author's notes of the relevant update.
> 
> This first part is a seeing-colour-once-you-meet-your-soulmate AU snippet set weeks after the end of [Providence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8748076). Implied future Laurent/Damen.

From the first time Laurent's eyes can fully process it, the starburst is overwhelmingly bright. So bright it _hurts_ , like the memory of the man who the symbol still represents in Laurent's mind.

Auguste never had opportunity to see his livery the way Laurent can now. Grey never transitioned into vivid blue and yellow for him. 

The man responsible for shoving Laurent unwillingly into this world of colour is the same man who cut Auguste down before he could experience it himself. That man now rides beside Laurent, his presence under the starburst banner incongruous. 

The sight makes Laurent ill.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second drabble set in the universe of [Providence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8748076). Implied future Laurent/Damen.

Laurent doesn't want to care about fate. He does, though, if only enough to wonder why _him_. Laurent has read about soulmates who don't fit tales of perfect romance, but never before has he imagined mortal enemies being soulmates. It makes no sense.

Of course, Damianos doesn't consider them adversaries. Despite being gifted to Laurent as a slave rather than an equal, and even having the skin of his back half stripped away at Laurent's command, he insists on seeing Laurent as his soulmate, not his master, or a rival who wants him dead. 

Laurent can't seem to stop him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon divergence, Laurent and Nicaise gen. Contains references to past child sexual abuse.

"Why does some asshole claiming to be my tutor keep trying to shove books in my face?" Nicaise griped.

"Because I assumed the reason you kept getting yourself into trouble was that you had too many free hours on your hands now that you're no longer under contract. I thought it would help to have something to occupy yourself," Laurent replied. "And also because I thought you would find it even easier to run rings around the courtiers if you could at least read and write and count past ten."

"I'm not some idiot who can't do basic things!"

"I didn't say you were. I'm well aware that you're clever." Perhaps _too_ clever at times, Laurent would say, even if Nicaise was still in the process of learning how to utilise it. "I wouldn't have gone to the effort of recruiting a tutor for you if I didn't think you were intelligent enough to make it worthwhile, would I?"

Nicaise huffed as if unimpressed by Laurent's reasoning rather than acknowledging the compliment. "Not that it matters either way, does it. No one cares if I'm smart. All anyone's ever going to see when they look at me is a hot hole to fuck, or used goods."

Laurent carefully hid his reaction to that. It was hardly the first time he'd heard Nicaise say something to that effect, but he was still hit squarely every time with how personally familiar those words felt.

"You know I don't see you like that."

"Maybe. But not everyone's got a broken dick like you apparently do."

"Keep talking like that and all anyone will see is an annoying brat."

There was silence for a long moment, as if Nicaise were deciding whether to be affronted. He apparently chose amusement instead, for he snorted indelicately. "Do you think I care?"

"You should if you want to secure yourself a decent master," Laurent pointed out. "Or, alternatively, if you decide to take me up on my offer after all. You won't be very effective as my spy if everyone's too irritated by you to allow you into their conversations or to act unguarded around you."

This time Nicaise _did_ look taken aback, though not in anger. "As your _what_?"

"You heard me. I told you I would find you a role that would suit your skillset if you accepted my offer, didn't I?"

It was clear that Nicaise had assumed that Laurent had meant something very different when he'd offered to take Nicaise on as something other than a typical pet. In his typical (and admittedly understandable) untrusting manner, he'd probably decided that Laurent just intended to pass Nicaise around to curry favour for himself rather than using Nicaise himself, as Laurent was all too aware had occasionally happened to Nicaise in the past. The boy didn't immediately seem to know how to react to this turn of events. Nicaise wasn't capable of remaining silent for long, though, so soon enough Nicaise seemed to find an answer to Laurent's words.

"I'd still get gifts like a normal pet?" he questioned.

"Of course," Laurent assured him. "As long as you earned them. Say, by putting in some effort and making progress on reading lessons. You'd be able to get information much more easily if you could covertly read any messages received in your presence."

"I bet I could just teach myself. I don't need some stupid tutor."

"I'm sure you could. But humour me anyway."

Nicaise still looked slightly suspicious, like it sounded too good to be true. But he nonetheless said, "About your offer…"

Laurent smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Laurent and Nicaise, this time in a post-canon AU with bonus Nikandros! Background Laurent/Damen.

"What's a child doing in here?" Nikandros asked, brought up short when he walked into the Council rooms some ten minutes before the meeting was set to start and saw Nicaise sprawled across two chairs and with his boots propped up on the Council table, the very picture of wilful disrespect.

Nikandros was probably lucky that Nicaise didn't speak Akielon, because he wouldn't have been shy about making his lack of appreciation for being called a child known, to put it mildly. 

"If you think you're capable of removing him, go ahead and try," offered Laurent. "But I guarantee he'll make you regret it. He bites."

Nicaise himself – who might not understand the language they were speaking, but was perceptive enough to have picked up on Nikandros's unimpressed tone – looked askance at Nikandros, his upper lip slightly curled, and asked, "Why is every Akielons ten feet tall and built like an ox?" He flicked his eyes pointedly towards the bottom hem of Nikandros's chiton. "Overcompensating for their size elsewhere?"

Laurent could see Nikandros's entire body bristle at the implication. Unlike Nicaise's Akielon, Nikandros's understanding of Veretian was passable, even if his pronunciation when he spoke it was a source of endless amusement for Laurent.

"Not all Akielons _need_ to compensate," Laurent said.

Nikandros grimaced. 

Nicaise snickered. "No wonder you walk like that lately, then."

Clearly appalled, Nikandros asked Laurent, “Why wasn't I warned that there are actually two of you?” 

"Oh, believe me," said Laurent, "we're not the same. Nicaise will make it his mission to be an entirely unique type of pain in your ass if you give him reason. Or maybe even if you don't."

Laurent could practically see the thought playing out behind Nikandros's eyes: what had he ever done to deserve having to deal with these Veretians?

Too bad for him, Laurent wasn't going anywhere any time soon, and therefore neither was Nicaise. Nikandros was just going to have to learn to live with that.

Which, given the barely-concealed mischievous look that was now stealing over Nicaise's face, wasn't an experience Nikandros was going to enjoy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon-divergence gen. What if Akielos had pressed their advantage against Vere after Aleron and Auguste were killed?

When the news arrived to Ios that Kastor and his army had now managed to claim as far north as Marches on behalf of Akielos, Father had openly gloated. Vere couldn't hope to stand against them, he'd proclaimed. Every battle only further weakened the Veretians while Akielos was strengthened. The rest of their country would belong to Akielos too soon enough.

Damen, for his part, still wasn't sure how to react to any of it.

Delpha had been _theirs_ to recover. That had been one of the reasons why Damen had been so willing to ride out and to do his part to make the Veretians surrender it back to them. And surrender it they had, once their King and his heir had both fallen in battle. Vere had recognised as clearly as Akielos had that the Veretian army's spirits and battle lines alike had been too shattered by that point to continue to hold the line against a still-determined foe. The transfer of the region had accordingly quickly been made official by the now-Regent of Vere. And they'd been in the ideal position to declare peace.

Father hadn't seemed interested in that, though. He'd recognised that he could easily take it further. He'd seen the weakness of a kingless country and wanted to take their opportunity. Why stop at Delpha when Vere wouldn't have done the same if they'd been in their position, Father had argued.

Damen could see where his reasoning came from. Vere _had_ unapologetically overstepped their bounds years ago in taking Delpha from Akielos. They hadn't let the fact that they had no real claim on the land – just as Akielos had no historical claim to the regions further north of Delpha – stop them. But Damen was still surprised to hear Father use 'it's the same thing Vere would have done' as a defence, or as a rallying cry. 

Because continuing to push the Veretian armies further and further north to take over large swathes of their country when it was obvious that they weren't in a position to collect themselves and fight back on equal terms didn't exactly seem… _honourable_ , did it?

King Theomedes was wise, and had far more experience in ruling than Damen had yet accrued, and he was Damen's King and his father. Damen owed him his loyalty just as the rest of the country did. So Damen didn't think he was in a position to rebuke Father for his decisions even if Damen thought he might potentially have made different ones had _he_ been the one in a position to sign a treaty with the Regent of Vere. That didn't mean, though, that Damen wasn't privately beginning to wonder a little. 

Apparently that was obvious even if he didn't voice it, for Father looked at him after the messenger had departed and said, "Would you rather give them years to rebuild their armies and stew in their hatred so that they can attack us once their Prince is old enough to take his throne? This will be the most bloodless solution in the long run."

There was logic in that too, arguably. 

And yet Damen did wonder if there couldn't have been some way to maintain the peace that would have involved less bloodshed.

He supposed now they would never know.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure and pointless Laurent/Damen fluff.

Laurent shifted under the intensity of Damen's gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Laurent asked.

"What? Am I not allowed to just enjoy the sight of you sprawled naked in my bed?"

"In _our_ bed," Laurent corrected.

"Even better. My naked husband in our bed, in our rooms, in our palace."

"You're ridiculous," Laurent said.

Damen shrugged, unrepentant.

Laurent hid his expression by leaning in to press his lips against the dimple punctuating Damen's cheek, hoping to pretend he wasn't flustered by Damen's words coupled with his lazy grin.

Damen's amused chuckled suggested Laurent wasn't very successful.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-canon, Damen/Laurent. Maybe with implied future Damen/Laurent/Nikandros if you want to read that into it, or otherwise implied jealous Damen hurling Nikandros across the room or something. Either way, pray for Nikandros.

"I want to watch," Damen said.

"Watch what?" 

"Your wrestling training. I'd like to observe."

"Would you? I doubt you'll find it particularly interesting." 

"But you're always interested in watching _me_ wrestle," Damen pointed out.

"It's hardly the same." Laurent's look turned sly. "Unless you're saying that you'd like to watch me wrestle in the _traditional_ way for your enjoyment?"

Damen paused, frowning. "With Nikandros?"

"Obviously. Why? Would that be a problem?" 

It was presented as a challenge; an implied 'are you jealous?' Damen always had difficulty not rising to those. 

"Sure. Why not?" Damen gritted out.

Laurent looked smug.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU BDSM club fic (though it's pretty light on the actual BDSM, whoops). Includes the brief prospect of Damen/OFC, but definitely Damen/Laurent at heart.

"Kneel!"

The word was spoken with over-the-top forcefulness. And it was so abrupt, without any build up or attempt to create some trust or rapport between them before launching into the scene. It was clear the Domme (Damen had already forgotten whatever obviously-false name she'd given him, which was rather telling about the lack of impression she'd made on him) thought that all she had to do was verbally strong-arm him to get him to submit to her. Damen just barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

He shouldn't have tried this. Damen felt utterly ridiculous and out of place here, in a club full of people who thought they were being avant-garde by making something inherently intimate into a public spectacle. Most of them were probably just trying this whole thing out on a lark because they'd bought into the ridiculous Fifty Shades trend or thought this was a good way to convince a whole group of people that they were actually interesting individuals. But trying to find a decent Dominant over the internet had so far been a resounding failure, so Damen had decided he might as well give this option a try. Now he was regretting it.

Damen had very obviously bristled at the order. If she actually _were_ a decent Domme, she surely would have been paying enough attention to pick up on those signs of discomfort and act accordingly. But instead, when Damen remained standing for long enough that it became clear he had no intention of complying, she seemed to think the right thing to say was, "Do you want me to punish you? Because I'll do it!"

"Yeah, I don't think so, sorry," Damen said.

She was clearly affronted when Damen just turned his back on her and unceremoniously walked away. But Damen couldn't see any point in drawing it out and wasting even more time debating it. It obviously wasn't going to work. Better for both of them to stop it now.

Damen nearly walked out of the club entirely, giving up the night as a wash. But on his journey towards the front door, he had to pass by the main stage. The pair acting out a caning for the entertainment of the crowds wouldn't have won anything more than a moment's attention from Damen; nothing about the execution of the scene or about the Dom was really to Damen's taste. But the one audience member who very clearly wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to the display, as if he found it almost as distasteful as Damen? _He_ was definitely eye-catching. 

The blond noticed Damen in turn soon enough. His eyes flicked slowly over Damen. Then he glanced away, seemingly dismissively. But Damen was sure he'd seen hints of real interest there.

Damen could have stuck with his original instinct and continued out the door. But then the blond looked back at him and raised his eyebrows challengingly. 

Damen resolved himself to making what would probably be another mistake.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon divergence with Laurent/Damen plus Nicaise. This was once very loosely intended to be a scene that might occur towards the end of my fic Regrets Never Felt. Back when, you know, I was fooling myself into believing I would ever get close to ending that fic. Simpler times… Anyway, don't worry, I don't think you need to be familiar with that fic to read this.

There was no warning before the tent flap was shoved aside. Nicaise casually wandered in, asking, "Oh, am I interrupting something?" 

As if he couldn't see for himself that Laurent's laces were halfway undone and Damen was nearly naked on top of him.

Damen yelped embarrassingly and fell off the mattress as he tried to cover himself.

"Please. As if I'm interested in looking at your dick. It's nothing I haven't seen before anyway," Nicaise scoffed.

"You definitely haven't seen _mine_ ," Damen protested indignantly. He'd rediscovered his trousers and was now in the process of quickly fastening them into place. _Too_ quickly. Damen had started getting adept at dealing with the laces after his recent practice at dressing himself in his Veretian clothing. Pity. 

Laurent should have been glad for the interruption, considering it had kept him from continuing to make what he knew was obviously a terrible mistake. Laurent shouldn't have mourned the lost chance. 

And yet.

"Nicaise," Laurent said calmly, "get the fuck out of my tent."

"It's my tent, too, you know."

A fact which Laurent had definitely regretted many times over the past weeks, but never quite _this_ much.

Laurent could have ordered Nicaise out of 'their' tent even so, but the stubborn expression on Nicaise's face suggested that he would make it into quite the fight if Laurent tried.

Damen clearly thought that was a distinct risk as well, because he took his chance to escape before it could escalate to a standoff, with Damen as collateral damage. He excused himself with an awkward, "I'm just… going to go check on the men." 

Once Damen retreated through the opening in the canvas like a coward, Nicaise said, "If you're intentionally trying to self-destruct and let the Regent win, then you're right on track." 

"I didn't ask for your opinion."

"You think that makes any difference to me?"

Of course it didn't. Nicaise _loved_ giving unsolicited advice, especially when he got to rub Laurent's face in it. 

Case in point, Nicaise said, "You should stop being such an idiot."

Laurent wished it could be that simple.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortly post-KR Laurent/Damen with a side of Nikandros.

Their kisses turned from careful lingering presses – barely enough for a real taste, to be honest, when at this stage Laurent was finding himself actually able to admit that he would have liked much more – towards something more… _strenuous_. A soft noise escaped Laurent's throat unbidden. He felt Damen smile slightly against his lips.

A moment later, there was the sound of an undeniably disapproving, and therefore familiar, throat-clearing from the direction of the infirmary doorway. 

Laurent wondered how long Nikandros had stood there watching before alerting them to his presence. He suspected it had been longer than Nikandros himself would ever admit. 

Surprisingly, Damen didn't look embarrassed to be caught as he had when Pallas had walked in on them. Maybe that was because this time they were both fully clothed. Or it might have been because Nikandros had already seen him doing this sort of thing many times over their years together, though obviously not with Laurent specifically. 

Laurent, for his part, wasn't embarrassed either; he was only annoyed at the interruption.

"Exalted," Nikandros said. "When the physicians said you needed to remain on strict bedrest, I assure you they didn't mean that you're free to do whatever you like as long as you don't leave the bed. You'll risk reopening your wound."

Damen made a negating noise as Laurent gently withdrew himself. Laurent wouldn't actually give Nikandros the satisfaction of admitting as much to him, but just privately he had to acknowledge that the advice was sound. The last thing he wanted was to do anything that would chance putting Damen back into that position where his skin turned far too pale and his breath too short, when Laurent had been kneeling in a pool of his blood and hadn't known for certain that Damen would actually see the following morning.

"Later, when your condition has improved," Laurent promised, as much to annoy Nikandros by making it clear that Laurent wasn't planning on leaving Damen any time soon, no matter what Nikandros might prefer, as to reassure Damen. "For now, it's probably for the best, actually. I really should go back to running your country for you."

"Our country, soon enough," Damen corrected.

Nikandros's grimace was so obvious and over the top that people three villages over probably spotted it. Laurent pointedly rolled his eyes in his direction.

"You're going to hurt him if you keep this up," Nikandros said after he'd followed Laurent out of the infirmary.

Nikandros wasn't really talking about physical injury.

"That's the last thing I want," said Laurent, perhaps a little too honestly.

He didn't actually say that he wouldn't hurt Damen. Laurent couldn't promise that. 

But he would do his best.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-canon, Laurent/Damen emotional fluff.

Laurent's hand twitches towards Damen's under the table. But then he hesitates before actually making contact, as if he's somehow still under the impression that he might not be welcome to touch without receiving some kind of permission. As if Damen doesn't always want every moment of affection that Laurent might be comfortable with offering. 

Damen hates that Laurent still experiences that kind of uncertainty. But he understands that it's not something that will just disappear overnight. Nor is it something Laurent can conquer alone. That's what it means to be together.

Damen closes the gap to intertwine their fingers.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I could explain the complex backstory to this ficlet, but it would take more words than are in the ficlet itself. So let's just leave it at mildly-canon-divergent Damen and Laurent having somehow ended up captured by someone whose identity is currently unknown. (Or, should I say, unknown _to Damen_. Not so much to Laurent.)
> 
>  **Warning** : References to the potential for rape/sexual assault. Don't worry, it doesn't actually happen.

“My Lord requests the pleasure of your company.” The palace guard directed a knowing smirk at Laurent. “In private.”

Damen replied before Laurent could. “That's not happening. Go back and tell him that if he’s looking to while away his evening in someone's 'company', he's going to have to look elsewhere.”

The guard looked incensed by Damen’s gall. As he was meant to. The whole point was to divert attention in Damen's direction rather than Laurent's, after all. 

“If I did tell him that, he'd be entirely justified in having you whipped to within an inch of death for your insolence," said the guard. Damen thought he detected a hint of concern in the man's voice. But he would bet that concern wasn't for Damen's sake. The man was probably just not looking forward to being the bearer of bad news.

Uncaring, Damen said, “If that’s the way he likes to use his captives, then all the more reason why he'd better rethink his evening plans.”

Laurent finally spoke up. “Oh, I very much doubt this 'Lord' has violent intentions towards me.”

“So do I,” agreed Damen. “But I’m fairly certain you’d scratch his eyes out long before giving him what he actually wants from you, so you’d end up on a whipping post all the same. Given the choice, at least I’m more likely to survive such treatment.”

Indignant, Laurent said, “I’m not soft. I could take a whipping just as well as you could.”

“Do you seriously want to argue with me about _this_ , of all things?” Damen asked incredulously. 

Then again, Laurent would happily disagree with him about the colour of the sky. Any excuse for an argument. At least he was honest in his dislike. That was better than Damen could have said for most other Veretians.

“If you’re finished with your lovers' spat,” the guard said to Laurent with great annoyance, with which Damen could actually empathise, “you’re coming with me.”

“He’s not,” Damen insisted, his tone low enough to register as a growl; the warning of a predator prior to striking. If the guard laid a hand on Laurent, Damen swore they would have to send a battalion of his comrades in here just to scrape the pieces of him off the stone floor, and just as many again to have a chance of successfully removing Laurent from the cell. Damen might not _like_ Laurent, but there was no way he was letting him be dragged away to be raped on Damen's watch.

“You may tell the Lord of the house that while his invitation is appreciated, I seem to be otherwise engaged this evening,” Laurent said calmly. 

The guard’s face turned red at having a second prisoner demonstrate such lack of concern for his supposed authority over them. “My Lord has asked for you. It isn't optional.”

“Just tell him what I said,” Laurent demanded, sounding a hundred times more authoritative than the guard had, and with none of the effort. “Those exact words. He's a reasonable enough man, surely? I doubt he’ll punish you for simply relaying a message.”

So Laurent thought that was the issue as well.

“You're just delaying the inevitable,” the guard said. "If he wants to put you to good use, you'll be bent over for him before the night's through."

Damen immediately regretted not punching the brute.

Once the guard was out of view, Damen said to Laurent, “You’ve probably just made it worse. You should have let me deal with it.”

Laurent looked at Damen as though he’d never seen him before. Ironically, it actually wasn't the first time he'd looked at Damen in much that same way. 

"You shouldn't tempt me," Laurent warned. "Not when I would still dearly like to give in to my desire to see you whipped."

Strangely, there was no heat to his words. If anything, they were almost pensive. Damen didn't know quite what to make of that.

"Why didn't you, then?" Damen challenged. "Why not just let me take the punishment?"

Laurent apparently had no answer for him. At least not one he was willing to share with Damen. And Damen didn't know what to make of _that_ either.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damen/Laurent post-canon fluff.

The most memorable part of Laurent's Ascension could have been the literal crowning moment of having the gold circlet finally placed on his head. Or being publicly declared King Laurent of Vere after all his struggles and his fears that he might never be granted that title. Or especially the near-deafening cheers from the mixed gathering of Veretians and Akielons; at that moment when they were chanting his name, they seemed happy to accept Laurent's rule despite how very different that rule would be than how anyone (especially Laurent himself) would have anticipated just a year ago.

Instead, what Laurent was sure would actually stick with him the most in the years to come were the moments when Damen had looked at him with entirely unconcealed pride and affection. He showed no sign of caring that he was making his true feelings known – and therefore making himself vulnerable – to the hundreds of people who were standing close enough to make out his expression.

"You really should guard your heart more carefully," Laurent warned much later, when they'd managed to duck away (mostly) unseen from the evening celebrations to find a moment of privacy.

"I will," Damen promised solemnly. "I'll always guard you with my life."

The undeniably sappy implication should have been ridiculous. It should have inspired laughter, not this still always unexpected warmth in Laurent's chest. But he supposed that would have been hypocritical, considering that Laurent felt much the same.

Months ago, Laurent might have pressed his face against Damen's broad shoulder to hide the blossoming happiness on his face. But although Laurent wasn't comfortable revealing himself to the world as Damen did, he could at least be open with this one man.

Laurent didn't need to actually voice a return promise. The kiss they shared was enough.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet is set post-canon. Contains references to canonical violence and some trauma-related reactions.

The scars didn't usually bother Damen. He knew they were there, intellectually. But he was rarely in a position to look at them himself. And they didn't hurt. Not usually. 

Paschal had been right about the salve helping to ensure they'd healed up well. Even when he was training, Damen could work through more or less his full range of movement without pulling uncomfortably at those raised lines of skin. Sometimes Damen's attention was still brought crashing back to the marks and how he'd received them, though.

He and Laurent had fallen asleep on a blanket pile a little too close to the fireplace one night. Damen suspected, in retrospect, that his sleeping mind had latched onto the burning sensation of the fire's heat against the skin of his naked back. His dreams that night had turned into vividly reliving his time chained to the post. Damen had woken up flailing against invisible bonds, with Laurent trying to restrain his hands so that he couldn't hurt himself. When Damen had finally regained enough awareness of his current surroundings to push aside the spectres of the past, Damen noticed the dark splotch on Laurent's cheek that hadn't been there earlier that night. Laurent waved the bruise off as nothing. Damen wasn't so unintelligent that he couldn't figure out how it had gotten there. The fact that Damen didn't recall hitting him didn't mean he wasn't still culpable for it, for all that Laurent would have called him a fool if he heard Damen saying as much.

And then there had been the time when Laurent had unthinkingly raked his fingernails down Damen's back. Damen could barely even remember how he'd ended up halfway across the room, his back to the wall as if to defend it from further 'harm'. But he certainly remembered the furrow that hadn't faded from between Laurent's eyebrows for at least a week, no matter how determinedly Damen had tried to kiss the worry and guilt away.

They didn't tend to acknowledge the less happy aspects of their past, as a rule. But sometimes it couldn't help but creep in. 

Part of Damen just wanted to forget that there had ever been a time when Laurent had _relished_ the sight of Damen's skin parting under the strike of the whip, or when Damen had dearly wished he could take up a weapon himself and turn it on Laurent in revenge. The thought of anyone hurting Laurent, especially himself, was so abhorrent to Damen now that he didn't even want to consider how much he'd wanted it once. And he had to imagine, given how Laurent had reacted on those thankfully infrequent occasions when Damen got stuck in recollections of that time, that he felt the same. That, just as Damen did, he wished he could change it. Or, failing that, that they could just cleanly move on. 

Of course, it wasn't always that easy. But most of the time, the scars were nothing more than healed skin.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon-divergence gen. Heads up for dark implications.

The trickle of water that was dripping into the bathwater from Laurent's body as he sluiced the remnants of soap from his skin must have been enough to effectively muffle the sound of footfalls against the tiles. There was no telling pause or wary glance over his shoulder. Laurent didn't seem aware that there was anything amiss. That he wasn't entirely alone anymore. 

For once, Laurent had none of his usual defences at his disposal.

Good.

Nikandros clutched the hilt of the drawn knife more firmly as he crept closer, readying himself.

He hoped Damen might forgive him one day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wrote this for discord, but figured I might as well put it up here too. Laurent/Damen, featuring A/B/O and a little cockwarming.

Damen's breath had already started coming in short needy bursts again by the time Laurent's knot had softened inside him. 

Again? So soon? They'd been at this for well over a day, by Laurent's estimation. Certainly enough time that Laurent was longing for sleep by now. Apparently the same couldn't be said for Damen. Laurent would have thought he would have slowed down a *little*, but he showed no sign of it. 

Not that Laurent was about to concede that he might not be able to keep up. He'd make sure he didn't leave Damen wanting, one way or another.

Damen squirmed, grinding back into Laurent, trying to press Laurent deeper. Laurent's entire body tensed at the increase in sensation around his now oversensitive cock. Instinct told him to pull away so he could recover. Instead, Laurent grasped at Damen's hips, stilling him.

Even though it would be a while before Laurent could give Damen what he *really* needed again, Laurent knew how Damen would whimper in protest if Laurent just rolled away and left Damen empty for now. Normally the prospect of hearing Damen whine for him like that would actually be appealing. Laurent loved reducing Damen to begging. But this far into his heat, Laurent supposed that Damen had earned himself something of a reprieve. Though only on Laurent's terms.

"Don't move," Laurent breathed into Damen's ear. "You can manage to keep my cock inside you until I'm ready to fuck you again, can't you?"

Laurent knew that Damen never was willing to back down from a challenge.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-canon (with a little Nicaise lives divergence), featuring Damen and Nicaise, with background Damen/Laurent. Fills the 'Carry You to Bed' square of my Fluff Bingo card.

"You might want to hold off on drinking like that for a few more years," Damen warned a few hours ago when Nicaise had just tipped the last mouthful of his third glass of wine between his lips.

Nicaise rolled his eyes and banged the base of the metal goblet down onto the wood of the table harder than necessary to make a point (or, more likely, just to irritate Damen).

"Fuck off. King or not, you don't get to tell me what to do. And I'm more than old enough to handle this weak Akielon swill."

Damen was too used to Nicaise by now to get particularly offended. "It's less a matter of age than body size. You're going to spend the whole night with your face half-buried in a chamber pot if you end up drinking half your weight in wine."

"What's your excuse, then? Even lightweight Laurent can outdrink you despite you being such a giant beast."

Laurent really couldn't do that, actually, however it might appear to anyone who wasn't paying close enough attention. When Laurent consistently drank more than Damen on those rare occasions when Laurent decided to drink at all, it wasn't because Damen couldn't keep up with him. It was more a matter of Damen always purposely choosing to more or less abstain on those nights. Their countries might be in a state of peace now, but even so, Damen knew that Laurent would still hate weakening himself that way unless he knew he could fully entrust his safety to Damen. Damen didn't at all mind being there for Laurent in that way, or in any way that Laurent wanted him.

Tonight it turned out that Laurent needed Damen's assistance in that way even though it wasn't Laurent himself who was drunk. It was lucky for Nicaise that Damen had never learned to resist Laurent's imploring expression, which he directed at Damen like the weapon it was when he asked Damen to make sure Nicaise was taken care of after they noticed that Nicaise was almost tipping out of his chair.

Damen sighed.

This wasn't the first time Damen had carried a drunken Veretian to bed. Still, this was a little different than when it was Laurent who was cradled against Damen's chest. For one thing, even drunk, Laurent had never once actually passed out in public. For another, for once it wasn't Damen and Laurent's shared bed in the royal chambers that Damen was currently heading towards. And most importantly, Damen didn't (usually) have to worry about how being in close proximity to Laurent while Damen's hands were occupied seriously increased the odds of Damen getting sharp fingernails to the face if his burden happened to wake up before they reached their destination.

Damen still remembered the fork all too well, even over a year later.

Nicaise's head lolled against Damen's shoulder as Damen shifted the boy's weight enough to push open the door into Nicaise's rooms. Damen felt Nicaise's eyelashes flutter a little against Damen's neck.

From there, Damen could have just casually tossed Nicaise onto his bed and been done with it. It wasn't as if Nicaise would know the difference. But Laurent probably would, somehow. So Damen was infinitely careful as he lowered Nicaise onto the mattress; almost as gentle as he would have been with Laurent himself.

The servants could take care of the rest when they brought in the water Nicaise was going to desperately need close at hand when he woke. Damen would do a lot for Laurent when he asked, but he certainly wasn't bending to remove Nicaise's shoes the way he'd only ever done for Laurent. Nor was Damen tucking him tightly into the blankets like a small child after Nicaise kept arguing he was anything but.

Though Nicaise did look _very_ young (and considerably less annoying) when he was sleeping so sweetly, Damen had to admit.

That accomplished, Damen finally was able to leave Nicaise to sleep in peace (for now, until the after-effects of too much drink eventually treated him to a rude awakening) in favour of seeking out his own bed, where he hoped Laurent would be waiting for him by now.

Maybe Laurent would even have some reward in mind.


End file.
